He reached the juncture. The flow from the left conduit and from ahead joined here, creating two separate currents that made it difficult to stand. Grand took a quick look up. The flow was heavy. Though he didn't see any claw marks at the bottom, a good-size leap might have taken them several yards up. He shined the light up the pipe, did not see a cat. If a cat had gone up there, the only way to be sure was to climb up himself. And there wasn't time for that. He didn't see any detritus washing down, which meant that the grate was still in place. He was gambling that the cats had gone ahead.

Grand motioned Hannah forward. The young woman sloshed toward him. He started ahead.

Suddenly, Hannah screamed.

Grand swung around and stared into the wide flashlight beam.

Hannah was hopping and stomping at something in the water. She stopped when she saw what she was fighting. It was a dead rabbit. Hannah stepped aside and let it flow past.

"Sorry," she said when she reached him. "It scared me."

That was interesting, Grand thought. If the cats were here they hadn't eaten on the carrion. Either they only ate when they were hungry or they only ate what they killed. Just like most modern big cats.

The two resumed their trek.

The pipe turned gently toward the left after several minutes. Shortly after that it forked. One branch continued straight ahead and the other went up, to the right. That one was dry.

Of course, Grand thought. He turned to Hannah and leaned very close to her ear.

"Wait here," he said.

She made a face but nodded.

Grand started toward the conduit, which was slightly smaller than the pipe they were in. As he neared he could see that there was no soiling on the bottom. As he suspected, it was a service conduit built to give maintenance workers access to the pipes. There were several such conduits in other parts of the mountains, all of them ending in large blockhouses.

The scientist grew angry with himself. He should have thought of those large, mushroom-shaped structures before. They were thick, windowless, and warm at night. They'd make perfect dens.

Grand reached the base of the pipe, which was about four feet up the side of the conduit. He saw claw marks all along the concrete. He pulled himself in and squat-walked up, using his belt hand to steady himself on the side of the pipe. There was something up there. He could feel it. As he continued to ascend he could smell it, dank and musky. He snapped off the light. There was enough illumination from Hannah's flashlight to climb.

He neared the open top of the conduit. It was stuffy in the pipe and Grand was perspiring heavily. There didn't seem to be a break between his heartbeats. If he were attacked in here, his only defense would be a rapid retreat, a backslide into the main conduit.

Grand reached the end of the pipe. The blockhouse was dark. He put the front of his flashlight against his hip and turned it back on. There was a very slight, yellow glow from the plastic lens setting.

There was also something else.

Death.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Hannah was becoming anxious.

She was standing just beyond the downward-sloping conduit. The dry conduit was ahead, to her right, but she couldn't see Grand and she couldn't hear him because of the water. She'd seen how quiet the cats could be, and she was worried for him. There was something special about the man. It wasn't just his imposing physical presence, which was-humid was the word that came to mind. Or maybe that's how he made her feel; she wasn't sure. It was also his humility, his sense of wonder, and the well-being she experienced when she was around him. It was as though nothing could harm her.

She felt that more acutely in his absence. Now that he was gone, menace seemed to be everywhere. Hannah felt the way she used to feel in the unfinished basement of their seventy-year-old mansion in Newport. The bare bulbs, dampness. and brick walls were great to play in when she had a couple of friends over. But when her friends left and she had to turn off the lights and run up the steep wooden stairs, the basement became a den of monsters. They never caught her, but she knew they were there, hidden beneath the growl of the oil burner or the washing machine or the water tank.

They were there. And they were here too.

Hannah kept turning around, flashing the light behind her and checking the other conduit. The water was splashing down vigorously over there, washing the opposite direction and carrying along bark, leaves, and branches that must have been torn from trees by the storm. The flood from ahead was also getting stronger. Hannah had no idea how high Grand had gone but she hoped that he could see or hear the water.

A moment later she saw him backing from the mouth of the dry conduit. She smiled as Grand hopped into the main pipe. With his shoulders hunched and his head bent, he walked toward her. He kept his light turned slightly away to keep from blinding her.

"We've got to get back," Grand said when he reached her side.

"What's wrong?" Hannah asked.

There was something different about his voice. It was tense, urgent.

Grand didn't answer. Holding the flashlight and belt in his left hand, the scientist grasped the young woman's hand firmly in his right and jogged ahead. Pulled along by Grand and pushed by the water, which was now well above her ankles, Hannah had never felt so leg-weary. Her thighs were actually trembling from all the climbing and running she'd done today. The water in her shoes didn't help. She found herself leaning forward, putting more of her weight on Grand's hand. He took it easily.

They continued for twenty or thirty yards when Grand stopped abruptly near the first juncture. Hannah stood close behind him, still holding his hand. She was breathing hard and looking at where he had fixed his light. He was shining it on the mouth of the pipe, which was now on their right, about ten feet away. Water crashed down, slapping high against the sides of the pipe and sending the flotsam from behind them faster and faster down the main conduit. But that wasn't what had caught Grand's eye.

"Turn off your light," Grand said.

Hannah did.

The scientist released her hand. He switched the belt to his right hand and kept his own light on the mouth of the pipe. There was something moving there. Hannah could tell by the way the rushing water came together. Something had parted it just beyond their line of sight. Debris that would have come down the center was spilling out on the sides.

A moment later the black nose, then the muzzle, and then the fangs of one of the cats came into view. The eyes came next, golden and looking ahead. The animal's head hung low in the pipe. The saber-tooth turned toward the intruders as it continued its slow, careful descent. A moment later its huge front shoulders appeared, the cable-taut muscles visible as they moved beneath the fur. The claws, longer than an adult's fingers, flexed and relaxed each time one of the animal's paws was drawn from the water.

Grand had turned slightly so that he was facing the pipe. "Hannah, stay behind me," he said as he began sidling toward the pipe.

"What are we doing?" The words barely made it from her dry throat.

"Leaving."

"Shouldn't we go the other-"

"We can't," he said.

Hannah assumed the other cat was there. She stopped talking and concentrated on staying alive.

The cat poised on the edge of the down-sloping conduit for a moment, just watching them. Then, with easy grace, it took a long two-legged step into the main pipe and immediately turned toward them. It nearly filled the conduit from side to side.

Grand stopped. Less than six feet separated them.